Re: The Grand Battle S2G1! [Round One: Alpha Complex!]
06-19-2010, 09:10 PM
Originally posted on MSPA by Lord Paradise.
"We're sorry about that."
Jen awoke rather suddenly, a syringe in the back of her neck filling her brain with an uncomfortable stimulant.
Before her was a bemonocled gentleman in a yellow jumpsuit who tapped his foot nervously, making a slight crunching sound upon the small brown rug that decorated the room. The rug had six legs and a flattened head that still glowed slightly over the eye sockets. Jen stretched her foot out and poked it lightly; nothing happened.
The light above was even more insistent than the fluorescent oppression of the rest of the complex; it splashed down upon Jen's face in orange blotches like an artist's interpretation of the sunlight. The chair was rather comfortable, though, or rather would have been if it weren't for the drugs in her veins telling her to get up and punch the police.
ALL of the police. "What's the deal?" she asked her captor.
"I'll cut to the chase. I represent certain interests within Alpha Complex who live in search of a better sector. A sector where a Computer made of fire brings light to infinite gardens. A sector where thousands of miracles and oddities can be found every daycycle. Now, whether this place is outside, inside, above or below, I won't join in on the philographical debates. But according to our equipment, you've been there."
Jen nodded. The initial surge of the drug was subsiding. "I've been outside of everything. But I don't know how to take you there."
"Perish the thought! We know that there are no easy answers, Clone Jen. We also know that your Friend Computer-ordained mission will be bringing you into conflict with the Yes Verses Bore."
"That's the plan." Jen sighed. "I'm really just along for the ride on this one."
"I see. Equipment guy?"
"No, no, not like that. I mean on a larger, sort of, you know... Hey, do you have a sword? I always think better with a sword on hand."
The bemonocled clone nodded and pointed to a box in the back of the room. "We brought your sword with you as well as the rest of your equipment."
Jen rose to her feet and strode across the room to the box, casually pushing the man out of her way. Inside were three bottles of pills and a short sword, with an iron hilt and a blade made of something red and hard to look at.
Jen rose the sword over her head. "It'll do. What do you need me to do with the... the guys?"
"We believe the Yes Verse Bore originated from somewhere Away. Somewhere far enough Away to attract the attention of our organization. We need a troubleshooter in the field to attempt to determine where they came from and, if possible, any route that might lead back there."
"I'll help out if I can, I guess. It's been a long time since anybody came to me with a problem they needed me to solve. Well, aside from the computer. And the Observer guy I guess you could argue. Still, before that I had like a whole week to myself."
"We thank you for your assistance, Clone Jen. It's truly an honor meeting someone who has achieved what we in the Club have only dreamed of."
"And it's a pleasure to meet someone with an interest in fucking up this already fucked-up place. But I should get back to the others."
"Of course. There's a terminal just outside that should provide you with a map back to R&D, and I'm sure you can catch up from there. Before that, however, it's important for the integrity of the mission that the authorities believe you escaped our 'capture' and made off with your loyalties intact. To this end, it's been agreed that you should kill me."
"Kill you?"
He laughed. "I forgot to introduce myself, didn't I? My name is Muir|Y|QTM|23, and I'm the Sierra Club's resident liaison and dead man. The organization's leadership provides me with enough extra clones that I can be killed worry-free whenever it is convenient for the club. Believe me, I'm used to it. Go ahead. Use the sword or that explosive projectile device in your bag."
Jen frowned, sticking the sword through her pocket and pulling her handgun out of her purse. "I can't do that, Mr. Muir." She tossed the gun to him. "You'll have to pull the trigger yourself."
He laughed. "Me?" Clone Muir fumbled with the gun and looked up at Jen, his face turning to disgust. "I've never... done it to myself before. That's... quite different."
"Well, this is your profession, isn't it? Maybe you'll learn something from a more hands-on experience."
"Hmm, yes, well when you put it that way." Muir put the gun in his mouth, took a deep breath, didn't pull the trigger, breathed out, breathed in, didn't pull the trigger, breathed out, took the gun out of his mouth, breathed in, breathed out, put it to his temple, breathed in, shut his eyes, didn't pull the trigger, opened his eyes, and breathed out. "Just, um... I forgot to ask you." A tear snuck its way down his eyelid and was caught on the lower rim of his monocle. "I'll kill me afterwards, it's just that I forgot to ask you what it's like. In the other place."
Jen smiled. "How's this for a deal? I'll tell you what it's like out there if you tell me what you see after you die. I mean, there has to be some delay period, right? Some... reshuffling? Have you... have you noticed anything?"
Muir made a shape with his mouth like a diagram out of a geometry textbook, and then it flattened out into the shape of shame and despair. "There's something," he said lightly, as though confessing a secret fetish. "Something... green that happens to me. And it's very important. But I always forget exactly what it is. Every time."
Jen considered this. Then she groaned, shrugged and turned around. "Well remember it this time, and if we meet again, I'll tell you all about the sun and the trees and the rivers and the dragons and maybe if you're lucky I'll tell you about Christmas too. Until then, I don't owe you shit. I'm out of here, so you should go ahead and die already."
The door closed behind her muffled the BLAM but couldn't entirely silence the sound behind it, a nauseous, grieving wail mixed with an orgasmic cry of anticipation. Jen was disappointed by the exchange, in the end, but a proud and selfish part of her still hoped that she had done the man some good.
"We're sorry about that."
Jen awoke rather suddenly, a syringe in the back of her neck filling her brain with an uncomfortable stimulant.
Before her was a bemonocled gentleman in a yellow jumpsuit who tapped his foot nervously, making a slight crunching sound upon the small brown rug that decorated the room. The rug had six legs and a flattened head that still glowed slightly over the eye sockets. Jen stretched her foot out and poked it lightly; nothing happened.
The light above was even more insistent than the fluorescent oppression of the rest of the complex; it splashed down upon Jen's face in orange blotches like an artist's interpretation of the sunlight. The chair was rather comfortable, though, or rather would have been if it weren't for the drugs in her veins telling her to get up and punch the police.
ALL of the police. "What's the deal?" she asked her captor.
"I'll cut to the chase. I represent certain interests within Alpha Complex who live in search of a better sector. A sector where a Computer made of fire brings light to infinite gardens. A sector where thousands of miracles and oddities can be found every daycycle. Now, whether this place is outside, inside, above or below, I won't join in on the philographical debates. But according to our equipment, you've been there."
Jen nodded. The initial surge of the drug was subsiding. "I've been outside of everything. But I don't know how to take you there."
"Perish the thought! We know that there are no easy answers, Clone Jen. We also know that your Friend Computer-ordained mission will be bringing you into conflict with the Yes Verses Bore."
"That's the plan." Jen sighed. "I'm really just along for the ride on this one."
"I see. Equipment guy?"
"No, no, not like that. I mean on a larger, sort of, you know... Hey, do you have a sword? I always think better with a sword on hand."
The bemonocled clone nodded and pointed to a box in the back of the room. "We brought your sword with you as well as the rest of your equipment."
Jen rose to her feet and strode across the room to the box, casually pushing the man out of her way. Inside were three bottles of pills and a short sword, with an iron hilt and a blade made of something red and hard to look at.
Jen rose the sword over her head. "It'll do. What do you need me to do with the... the guys?"
"We believe the Yes Verse Bore originated from somewhere Away. Somewhere far enough Away to attract the attention of our organization. We need a troubleshooter in the field to attempt to determine where they came from and, if possible, any route that might lead back there."
"I'll help out if I can, I guess. It's been a long time since anybody came to me with a problem they needed me to solve. Well, aside from the computer. And the Observer guy I guess you could argue. Still, before that I had like a whole week to myself."
"We thank you for your assistance, Clone Jen. It's truly an honor meeting someone who has achieved what we in the Club have only dreamed of."
"And it's a pleasure to meet someone with an interest in fucking up this already fucked-up place. But I should get back to the others."
"Of course. There's a terminal just outside that should provide you with a map back to R&D, and I'm sure you can catch up from there. Before that, however, it's important for the integrity of the mission that the authorities believe you escaped our 'capture' and made off with your loyalties intact. To this end, it's been agreed that you should kill me."
"Kill you?"
He laughed. "I forgot to introduce myself, didn't I? My name is Muir|Y|QTM|23, and I'm the Sierra Club's resident liaison and dead man. The organization's leadership provides me with enough extra clones that I can be killed worry-free whenever it is convenient for the club. Believe me, I'm used to it. Go ahead. Use the sword or that explosive projectile device in your bag."
Jen frowned, sticking the sword through her pocket and pulling her handgun out of her purse. "I can't do that, Mr. Muir." She tossed the gun to him. "You'll have to pull the trigger yourself."
He laughed. "Me?" Clone Muir fumbled with the gun and looked up at Jen, his face turning to disgust. "I've never... done it to myself before. That's... quite different."
"Well, this is your profession, isn't it? Maybe you'll learn something from a more hands-on experience."
"Hmm, yes, well when you put it that way." Muir put the gun in his mouth, took a deep breath, didn't pull the trigger, breathed out, breathed in, didn't pull the trigger, breathed out, took the gun out of his mouth, breathed in, breathed out, put it to his temple, breathed in, shut his eyes, didn't pull the trigger, opened his eyes, and breathed out. "Just, um... I forgot to ask you." A tear snuck its way down his eyelid and was caught on the lower rim of his monocle. "I'll kill me afterwards, it's just that I forgot to ask you what it's like. In the other place."
Jen smiled. "How's this for a deal? I'll tell you what it's like out there if you tell me what you see after you die. I mean, there has to be some delay period, right? Some... reshuffling? Have you... have you noticed anything?"
Muir made a shape with his mouth like a diagram out of a geometry textbook, and then it flattened out into the shape of shame and despair. "There's something," he said lightly, as though confessing a secret fetish. "Something... green that happens to me. And it's very important. But I always forget exactly what it is. Every time."
Jen considered this. Then she groaned, shrugged and turned around. "Well remember it this time, and if we meet again, I'll tell you all about the sun and the trees and the rivers and the dragons and maybe if you're lucky I'll tell you about Christmas too. Until then, I don't owe you shit. I'm out of here, so you should go ahead and die already."
The door closed behind her muffled the BLAM but couldn't entirely silence the sound behind it, a nauseous, grieving wail mixed with an orgasmic cry of anticipation. Jen was disappointed by the exchange, in the end, but a proud and selfish part of her still hoped that she had done the man some good.